


Cats and Humans will have to work together!

by Splotcher



Category: Cats & Dogs, James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: AU, Crossover, M/M, Mousers Enforcing Our World Safety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 07:20:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/859418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splotcher/pseuds/Splotcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q is the youngest Quartermaster in MI6 history. But some of his information comes from an extremely unexpected source. Tab Lazenby is the appointed director of MEOWS, a secret intelligence so secret that humans don't know they exist. But someone knows about them both, and now two organizations with no reason to trust each other must work together to save the people they can't function without.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cats and Humans will have to work together!

**Author's Note:**

> Hullo all,
> 
> I have another fandom I should be writing for, but this popped into my head and simply won't let go. I hope you enjoy-constructive criticisms are welcomed, flames will be used to fuel the fires of creativity and all that. 
> 
> I am also a spotty updater, but I'll try to stick with it. Cheers.
> 
>  
> 
> \--Splotcher.

He gets home after a long day and stumbles up the stairs to his flat. He barely got away without attempting to murder 005, and it would be a long time before 002 would be so flippant with him again. He had told M he needed tonight off, but he was too important, too desperately needed at all times. He could have tomorrow. Q took that small victory and only hoped the fellow in his flat understood, and that he hadn’t left in disgust.

The delicious smells that wafted from the front door as he opened it gave him hope that his friend had not left. He swiftly entered, locked the door, checked and armed his security (how did the other manage to get in without setting off alarms?) and put his bags down in the living room before entering the large kitchen.

Macaroni and cheese was cooking on the stovetop (with tuna, he noticed), with a salad from some local deli sitting on the counter (for Q, his friend wouldn’t touch it) and a cup of Earl Grey on the counter. He quickly pulls out a saucer from his cabinets and set about getting his friend something from the fridge.

“Oh good, it’s you. I was worried one of your 00’s would be popping in, Q.”

“No, just me. Sorry you had to wait.” He says as he finds what he’s looking for.

“A refreshing change of pace. Usually I’m the one making people wait. Besides, I hardly ever get to cook anymore-it’s always take out and milk bottles, I’m going to get fat.”

“Macaroni and cheese is probably not the best choice for keeping the pounds off.”

“Which is why I cooked it for you. You should eat more. And it has tuna, which makes your argument irrelevant.” The audible sniff somewhere behind him makes him smile.

He laughs, and places the now filled saucer of milk on the table. His houseguest is sitting on a chair, easily flicking his tail.

“I like the bowtie.”

“I was informed when I took over MEOWS, that I had to look professional. Apparently I now represent the intelligence of the free world.”

“Frightening thought.” He says seriously, grinning again when Tab wrinkles his nose in good humor.

“Yes well, it is a brave new world. We’ve even started working with Dogs, can you imagine? They finally got their heads away from each other’s asses to see the benefit of alliances, and I just had to send them one of my top agents to make it stick.” He begins to lap milk from the saucer.

“Ivanna?”

“No, she was the problem. Catherine. Now she’s working with this dog named Diggs.”

“Work well together?”

“Better than I had hoped. And you? How’s keeping MI6 in line?”

“I have ten 00 agents, all of which think I am a spotty boffin that should be accorded little respect, and they constantly break my toys.” He gives the cat an exaggerated aggrieved look. 

The cat chuckles, flicking milky whiskers. “If it helps, you have the respect of the head of the most secret organization ever.”

“Thanks Tab.”

And so his evening went, eating macaroni and cheese and chatting with a large black and white cat until the wee hours of morning. They talked about agents, frustrating missions, Tab mercilessly teased Q about his love life (or lack thereof) until Q could hardly speak from the blush, but gave back as good as he got with jokes about all of the old cat ladies Tab had been found around over the years (his tail and chest fluffed when he was embarrassed, making him look even heftier). By the end of it, they were laughing through mouthfuls of tuna and cheese, Tab had at least as much food as he did, and both of them ended up sleeping on the couch.

An alarm woke Q in the morning. He bolts upright just as his phone starts to ring again.

“Hello?” he mutters groggily into the receiver.

“I can’t return my equipment to you if you are not here.”

“…004, you may turn your equipment into Q-branch. I am off today.” He terminates the call before 004 can sputter out a response.

“Well done.” A sleepy voice next to his knee supplied. “Give them hell for England.”

“I think you had too much tuna last night.”

“Probably. Don’t let my agents hear me say that, I’ll lose respect.”

They both set about to waking themselves up, then sitting and exchanging information at the breakfast table over Earl Grey and milk.

The thing about being Q is one was expected to know so much, and as the youngest in history, Q had to make sure his information came from reliable sources. So much of it came through his own research, his own hacking, but there were some things that humans were just not privy to. Here, he turned to his source-and if he told anyone about this source, they would send him to psych straight away. Tab had a massive operation, but he dealt primarily with the animal side of things, and was content to let humans have their side. But he too understood the benefit of having an outside source, so they made a deal. Once every few months, he and Tab would get together and talk shop. Tidbits of info the other might be interested in. Leads on suspicious activity. Information exchange on wanted targets. All with the understanding that the information was entirely anonymous. 

By midday, Tab was full of milk and empty of information (but full of Q’s information by design) and had to regrettably leave back to MEOWS. He only had part of the day off, and had to return for a meeting with his “superiors”, some felines that were overseeing the budding relationship between cats and dogs. Tab didn’t think it was anything over than a waste of time, but he had a job to do. They make arrangements to meet again in three months.

 

*^*^**^*^*^*^*^**^*^

A few days later, Q is staring aghast at the lump of metal 006 and 007 are standing over. It was a half million pound satellite uplink but now it is so much scrap. 

“I…I don’t even want to know what happened. Get out of my sight, both of you.” He sighs, rubbing his temple. The two 00s unrepentantly grin and stride off. 

He is seriously thinking of quitting. Except he loves his job and he will most likely be killed to keep the secrets safe. He just wishes that the 00s would afford him a bit more respect. He is their superior officer, after all.

Maybe the next time he sees Tab, he’ll ask him how he does it.

He manages to stop a laughable hacking attempt later in the day, sending in retribution a virus that would destroy their systems with a vengeance. He fixes a software problem on a piece of tech newly ‘acquired’ from a mission in Siberia, puts the final touches on the hardware for a new piece of machinery (another satellite uplink, smaller than the one he had given out, made of cheaper materials because he had finally learned to live without hope of them ever returning). He leaves feeling fairly good about his day-his 00s are safe and on task, his people in Q-branch were coaxing out new tech every day, and he had only received the one damaged piece of tech. Tomorrow, of course, he would have to contend with 008 and the tech that was brought back, but… today was a good day.

Right until he made it to his flat and everything went dark.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^**^

When he woke up again, he was face to face with a very annoyed Tab Lazenby.

“Oh good, you’re awake. Let me tell you how my week went, shall I?” The cat asked sarcastically.

“What?”

“I hope they’ve taught you how to get out of holes in MI6, because unless you can grow wings, we may very well be buggered.”

“…What?!” He looks around, and they are in fact in a large hole with concrete sides at least twenty feet tall. How did he get in without being injured?

“Do you know where we are?”

“Not a clue. I woke up in a cage first, fell asleep, and got in here with you next, when were you grabbed?”

“At least three days after you left.”

“Terrible thing to sleep through, I must say.” Tab sniffed, and then started investigating the sides of the hole.

“Can you jump out?”

“Possibly. If you were about six feet taller, I might make it.”

**Welcome.**

They both startled at the voice. There must have been speakers somewhere.

**Tab Lazenby and Quilleran Quincy Quentis.**

“I feel your parents should be punished for that one.” Tab says congenially, ears pricked forward, straining for the next words.

“Your name isn’t much better!” Q hisses back, on edge.

**We are here to play a friendly competition. You will be given a finite amount of time to be rescued from your current predicament. The organization that finds their member first receives them back in one piece.**

“And the other?” Tab asks clearly. There is a pause.

**The other may come back in several. Good luck.**

The voice cuts off abruptly and they turn to stare at each other.

“What…the fuck?”

*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
Dandelion is on her second day as dispatcher when the clipped electronic voice comes in. She does not know what to do, so she does the first thing she can think of.

She panics. And in the ensuing chaos, everyone knows that their head cat has been kidnapped. And without the set chain of command…The entire complex is thrown into chaos.

This is how Catherine finds her home base. And from there on, there is only one thing to do.

^*^*^**^*^*^**^*^**^*^*^**^*^*

MI6 is far quieter on their end, and more quickly organized. Kidnappings are more normal for them (if they knew of MEOWS and how rare it was for them, they’d be terribly embarrassed). What is not normal for them is the feed that is taking over their computers, showing their Quartermaster trapped at the bottom of a sheer pit with a cat for company. But they have a procedure for such things, and they will get their Q back.


End file.
